the door, he took the boy's arm, turned him round to the light, and
saw at once that there was something very grave on his mind. Chucking
him under the chin, the Parson said cheerily, "Hold up your head,
Kenelm. I am sure you have done nothing unworthy of a gentleman."

"I don't know that. I fought a boy very little bigger than myself,
and I have been licked. I did not give in, though; but the other boys
picked me up, for I could not stand any longer; and the fellow is a
great bully; and his name is Butt; and he's the son of a lawyer; and
he got my head into chancery; and I have challenged him to fight again
next half; and unless you can help me to lick him, I shall never be
good for anything in the world,--never. It will break my heart."

"I am very glad to hear you have had the pluck to challenge him. Just
let me see how you double your fist. Well, that's not amiss. Now,
put yourself into a fighting attitude, and hit out at me,--hard!
harder! Pooh! that will never do. You should make your blows as
straight as an arrow. And that's not the way to stand. Stop,--so:
well on your haunches; weight on the left leg; good! Now, put on
these gloves, and I'll give you a lesson in boxing."

Five minutes afterwards Mrs. John Chillingly, entering the room to
summon her husband to breakfast, stood astounded to see him with his
coat off, and parrying the blows of Kenelm, who flew at him like a
young tiger. The good pastor at that moment might certainly have
appeared a fine type of muscular Christianity, but not of that kind of
Christianity out of which one makes Archbishops of Canterbury.

"Good gracious me!" faltered Mrs. John Chillingly; and then,
wife-like, flying to the protection of her husband, she seized Kenelm